a poem by Satish Verma, India

Was very difficult to accept
the dyslexic reality.
Essence was same,
old spirit was dead,
man was still a brute.

Night the green aliens came
Dream? Didn’t know. They were
watching insignificant centuries
through the ruins of earth.
So we go back to the beginning?

Saints fallen from pedestals
licked grassland. Hero was killed
in a fake encounter. Prison overflowing
amnesty was given to thieves.

Ant hills plundered, beehives destroyed
humiliation writ large, Camels and
sheep set free before the explosion.
Desert started enhancing towards
the eyes. Prehistoric time was coming.


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